


Secrets of the Deck

by UmbrellasOnTheInside



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Blood, Blood and Gore, Cards, Cardverse, Character Death, Death, Elements, Explicit Gore, FACE Family, Four Kingdoms, FrUK, Gore, Jacks, M/M, Mages, Magic, Major character death - Freeform, Minor Character Death, More plot, Mutual Pining, Pining, Princes, Princesses, Queens, RusAme, Sex, Slow Burn, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Steampunk, Violence, Witches, but aces are better, but its explicit because gore so, but like, but this isn't a smut fic, gerita - Freeform, idk - Freeform, kings - Freeform, kings and queens don't have to be married but trust me on this, kings are like all powerful mages, less sex, the spades are such steampunks though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 06:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbrellasOnTheInside/pseuds/UmbrellasOnTheInside
Summary: The house of cards is a delicate thing. There are fifty-two cards that build it, however, all it takes is one card to destroy it. It only takes one death, to kill them all."Everything you do is interconnected, and effects each kingdom."





	Secrets of the Deck

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first AO3 fic but I am really excited about it. I hope you enjoy and I will try to update regularly.

Alfred watched as the rain pounded on the casket, and his only family member was lowered into the earth. He wasn't crying. To the utter confusion of the other royals, he didn't even seem upset. Instead, he wore a blank expression and kept his eyes fixated on the coffin as if he could resurrect his father if he stared hard enough. However, he knew the rules of death too well. He was the ruler of the citizen-declared Kingdom of Death now, after all.

Thunder cracked, and Alfred scowled. He wasn't the only new ruler lately. The Kingdom of Hearts had just coordinated the younger brother of King Gilbert after he was murdered by an unknown attacker. They never found a body. Alfred scowled further as the first cluster of dirt was heaved onto the oak of the casket. The other new ruler was the King of Clubs, Ivan Braginsky, who took up the job after a revolt in clubs ended in the suicide of the king and queen. Another flash of lightning illuminated the dreary sky, causing Alfred to sink his fingernails deeper into his palm.

He hated that this is how the famed King Arthur died, without a true blood heir. However, he was the only one who knew that he wasn't Arthur's biological son. Even though he thought Arthur was the most loving father he could have ever asked for, he couldn't help but believe Arthur would have loved him more if he had the same blood he did. Maybe he would have spent more time with him before he died. Maybe he would still be alive. He shook his head as tears finally escaped his eyes and rolled down his face, mixing with the cold rain that already inhabited it. He was pulled out of his growing sorrows by a firm hand resting on his shoulder.

"I just wanted to say, that I understand how you feel. My king was like a father to me as well," the man behind Alfred comforted with a thick accent. Alfred's scowl morphed into something presentable as he turned around to face the monarch that was obviously looking for a conversation of some sort.

Alfred stuck out his hand and gave what resembled a smile as he greeted with, "I am Alfred Kirkland, Prince of Spades, and you are?"

"Ivan Braginsky, King of Clubs," the tall man answered with a warming smile. Alfred was very familiar with the Kingdom of Clubs while never going there himself. He knew Arthur frequented the state frequently on campaigns. Alfred remembered that Arthur would bring him back stories about his many victories over their dictator of a king or how he slew their ace with a single spell. Alfred loved the stories as a child, but now, they scared him when he thought about how Arthur probably slaughtered so many civilians on his campaigns. 

"Excuse me, but I wouldn't expect the only person to talk to me today to be the King of Spades considering your history with my father."

"That history is not my history, nor is it yours."

Alfred smiled at this. He put his hand into the pocket of his long, blue trenchcoat and pulled out his lucky pocket watch to check the time. He hadn't realized until now that his father was completely buried and it was almost time for the coronation. He said his goodbye's to Ivan and made his way back to the castle.

When he got there, Yao angrily scolded him that he should've had an umbrella or at least not stayed out so long, but he tuned him out. He couldn't stop thinking about Ivan's olive branch. If he was going to do anything as king, it was going to be to fix what his father had destroyed with the Kingdom of Clubs.

~,~,~

The cool air of the mechanized ceremony room greeted him along with the eyes of every nobility member in the four kingdoms. His father had already passed down his magic to him, so he was technically already king. However, he assumed he had to prove it now in this full but barren room. It all happened so fast to him. The crown being placed on his head, the oath, the room erupting in applause as he faced them as the new ruler of the Kingdom of Spades.

He raised both his hands and shot a mist in the air that reflected a great rainbow over all the guests that were sitting in front of him, as was tradition to prove the new king's power. _"Your father's power,"_ he thought to himself. The room now erupted into cheers as the new king took his seat on the throne that his father sat in not a week ago.

He sat and watched as guests began leaving for the banquet hall. However, he stayed behind, feeling as though he was bound to the cold and calculating throne by the ghostly hands of his father.

~,~,~

During the banquet, he sat at the head of the extensive table that was reserved for only the kings, queens, and jacks of the kingdoms. To his right sat Yao, and his left, an empty chair. Arthur never appointed a queen. Despite his aggressive and instinctual nature of ruling, he was a fairly closed off person.

Alfred had learned this early on when he became old enough to pay attention to things. The main thing Alfred noticed was how Arthur never ate in the banquet hall unless it was a special occasion. The only other person Arthur ever ate with was him. Alfred got curious one day when he was twelve-years-old and asked Yao if Arthur ever ate alone before the young prince was born, and Yao smiled and told him that it wasn't important what the castle was like before he was born. That satisfied Alfred at the time, but now, he was curious. So, with the most kingly smile he could muster, he turned to Yao and asked, "Did my father still eat alone before I started living here."

While this question was meant for his Jack's ears, everyone at the table heard and stopped talking. They, along with Alfred, stared quizzically at the old Jack of Spades. However, there was one member of the table who didn't look interested in the question, but instead, he looked afraid. Francis Bonnefoy, King of Diamonds, pulled at his collar nervously and gulped a little.

These actions went unnoticed by the congregation except Alfred. He pretended he didn't see it to save face but made a mental note of it. The new king looked back to Yao, who he could tell was nervous, even with his calm facade he wore like a specially fitted mask. 

"Well, your majesty, your father was a reserved man and enjoyed his privacy was all," Yao replied, trying to break the suspense of the dinner table.

"But did he eat alone before he, uh, before I was born," Alfred asked again, trying to work over the slight trip in details. He stared at Yao this time with a face that said,  _"Don't lie to me."_

Yao sighed and opened his mouth to speak before Francis spoke up instead.

"Oh mon ami, you must not make this joyous dinner so tense. Why don't you have another glass of this wine I brought all the way from my kingdom, no?" 

It slightly bothered the newest King that this man pretended to know him for the sake of formality, despite them never meeting. Now Alfred had concluded that for some reason, the King of Diamonds knew something about his father that he didn't know himself. The table then continued in the mindless banter it was engaged in before he had said anything.

~,~,~

It was dark now, and all the guests had drunkenly stumbled home except the kings, queens, and jacks of the other kingdoms who were to stay in the Palace of Spades for the night. Alfred saw his opportunity. He snuck into the corridor of the castle where the Diamond guests were staying. He placed his hand on the doorknob of the door that he believed was the one that led to Francis's room. He took a deep breath and let a few thoughts cross his mind.

What was he even doing? This was kind of awful, going unannounced into a room where a powerful and influential ruler was sleeping. He took another deep breath.

"C'mon big guy. You gotta do this. You gotta know," he whispered to himself as he finally pushed the old door open. He expected an array of outcomes behind the door like Francis naked or having sex or something awkward like that (which wasn't out of the question with his luck), but he didn't expect to see someone who definitely wasn't Francis laying in the bed reading a book.

The person in the bed looked up at Alfred with fear in his eyes as he screamed, "Papa! Papa!" and got out of the bed like he was about to run. Alfred acted on impulse and lifted the boy up in a bead of water. 

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to talk, okay." The boy still looked at him with pure terror and adrenaline. "If you promise not to scream, I'll let you down."

He looked like he may have been thinking this over, but then he realized he couldn't breathe and nodded rapidly in agreement. Alfred set him down and drained the excess water that had soaked into his yellow pajamas and his hair. The boy, who began to heave as oxygen filled his lungs again, looked at Alfred with a sort of weary trust, like that a person would give a wild animal that isn't attacking them.

Now that Alfred looked at this kid, he realized that he looked a lot like him, from his facial features and glasses to his golden blonde hair. This confused the King of Spades further when he thought about how this kid wasn't the Jack or Queen of Diamonds and was sleeping in the corridor reserved for specifically Francis and his party., so who was he?

"You said you had questions?" the boy broke the silence with a tone that was half fear and half annoyance. 

"Oh, right, yeah, questions." 

 _"Jesus Christ, man. Chill out. He should be the one who's scared,"_ he mentally scolded himself.

"So who are you, exactly?" Alfred asked nervously.

"I am Matthew Bonnefoy, Prince of Diamonds," he replied with a sense of pride shining through his fear. Alfred mentally face-palmed. Who did he think this kid was? He completely forgot Francis had a son, and he must have gone into his room by mistake. However, he had never met him, and it was kind of weird that they looked so much alike...

Then the realization set in, and that feeling that had been nagging at him as soon as the prince said his name went from a spark to a full-fledged forest fire. He felt like he was going to throw up as he could taste the acid in the back of his throat. However, he held it in when a worried looking Francis barged into the room and the poor young king's heart skipped a beat.

"What in the fresh hell is going on here!" Francis yelled alarmed. Alfred trapped Matthew in another water bubble and angrily looked at Francis.

"You're going to tell me who the hell I am right now," Alfred demanded, venom dripping from his voice. Francis frantically looked at Matthew who was struggling to breathe inside the capsule of water.

"I'll tell you whatever you want, just please put my son down!" Alfred did just that and looked back at Francis.

"A-are you my," Alfred choked, "my father?"

~,~,~

Francis nervously rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

"It's true. You and Matthew are twins. My twins."

"You're telling me this psychopath is my twin brother!" Matthew angrily exclaimed as he pointed an accusatory finger at his newly discovered brother.

"Hey, you're not exactly a treat either, pal!" Alfred shot back getting in Matthew's face a little.

"At least I don't sneak into people's rooms at three in the morning and trap them in water bubbles!"

"Hey, this is my castle, y'know. I can do whatever the hell I want!"

"Boys! Boys! Stop arguing! Please!" Francis interjected, which stopped the verbal arguing, but the twins both continued to glare at each other like children. "Look, just let me explain."

"Yeah, what do you know about my father?"

Francis frowned at Alfred and yelled, "Will you hang on! I'm about to tell you!" When Alfred and Matthew were both silent for about ten seconds, he continued.

"Twenty years ago, I dated this beautiful woman. Like, she was seriously the hottest-"

"Okay we get it," Matthew and Alfred cut him off in unison. Francis cleared his throat and continued.

"Moving on, she believed we were soulmates, and at the time, I believed that, too. However, it was not meant to be, and we went our separate ways. Until one day, a basket appeared on the castle doorstep with a note addressed to me from her. The basket contained you two, and the letter told me that she believed that you would have a better life with me." He paused. "I never saw her again."

"Yes, but how did we get separated? And how did I end up with Arthur?" Alfred asked impatiently.

"Will you hang on a damned second?!" Francis yelled angrily.

Alfred sulked back down and kept quiet.

"At the time, I was having a, um, special, relationship with King Arthur." Alfred's eyes widened. All he could picture in his mind was his biological father, fucking his adopted one. He felt the bile from earlier resurface and he had to bite it back.

Despite Alfred's nauseous look, Francis continued, "Well, he was concerned that because he wasn't very, well, fond of sex with women, that he wouldn't have an heir." He paused again. "And well, I figured having twins might cause a dispute for the throne since I didn't know who was older. I hadn't told anyone about you two except Arthur so,"

"So you gave me away," Alfred finished quietly as he hung his head. 

"It wasn't like that. I wanted it to be so that neither of my sons wanted to kill each other after I died over some fucking title!" Francis defended.

"Yeah, he's never tried to kill me now," Matthew mumbled.

"Oh fuck off," Alfred shot at Matthew as he got up to leave.

"You wanted the truth, you got the damned truth!" Francis yelled after him. Alfred just scowled and shut the door.

~,~,~

After that, Alfred knew exactly what he had to do. He changed into the most casual thing he owned, grabbed his cloak, and jumped on a horse. He rode to the nearest tavern he could find and made sure he had enough money for at least ten drinks. He walked in, sat at the bar, and ordered a beer.

While the bartender went to make the drink, the disguised monarch noticed another cloaked figure next to him. All he could see was that the figure was strangely tall and had pale hands. A memory flashed, and Alfred recognized that hand. The hand that had clasped his shoulder earlier that day and belonged to the only person who saw it fit to comfort him after he watched his father figure be lowered into the ground. 

"Ivan?" he said to the figure next to him. The King of Clubs turned towards him with wide violet eyes that reflected the fear of being caught. When the light-haired man realized who it was, he relaxed a little. Just a little, though.

"What are you doing here, King Alfred?"

"Hey, you can drop the formalities here. It's a tavern," Alfred assured with a smile and a friendly hand on the sturdy man's shoulder. "And to answer your question, I came here to drink. That's all."

The larger king smiled, took the shot in front of him, and turned back to Alfred as he wiped his mouth and asked, "Rough day?"

"You've no idea." A silence hung in the air as the two drank. Alfred then broke it by asking, "So, what do you think of the King of Diamonds."

Ivan frowned at this. "So that's why you are here. Gossip?"

"Oh, no. I was just creating a topic, and he was close to Ar-" he cleared his throat, "my father."

Ivan's smile returned as he responded with, "Well, in that case, King Francis has always been the..." Ivan paused and diverted his eyes to the side, "...flashiest of the four of us." 

 _"Seems about right,"_ Alfred thought to himself with a scowl as he thought back to the self-centered man that he kept forgetting was his father.

"He definitely represents the Diamond spirit," Ivan continued. "The spirit of pride, wealth, and greed."

Alfred thought about this. He had Francis's blood, the Diamond's blood, running through his veins. How could he be the King of Spades when he was a full-blooded Diamond? How could Arthur make him his heir while knowing that? 

 _"How can you control the power of a Spade with Diamond blood?"_ This question rung through Alfred's head until he finished his fourth mug of beer. Only then did he forget his troubles, and from the looks of it, so had Ivan. The two laughed with each other as they made jokes only a drunk person could make.

"Hey Ivan," Alfred slurred with slit eyes and a drunk smile. He had spent all his money at this point and had downed at least five mugs of beer and four shots.

"Ya Alfred," Ivan replied in a similar state except with a heavier accent than usual. 

"You wanna *hic* get outta here and just *hic* just go to my room and just *hic*"

Ivan nodded dazedly and grabbed Alfred's hand and took him to the horses. The drunkards both mounted their horses and made it back to the Castle of Spades by some miracle. They both stumbled, playfully shushing each other along the way, to Alfred's chamber. 

The two collapsed on the appropriately named king-sized bed. Ivan somehow managed to get on top of the smaller man and began to sloppily leave kisses down his neck. He stopped for a second as something in the alcohol made him remember it, despite the rather strange timing.

"I am truly sorry about your father," he comforted as he awkwardly stroked Alfred's head.

"Don't be," Alfred giggled. "I'm the one who killed him."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! Constructive criticism is always appreciated because it is nice to know how to improve my work. I will probably get another chapter out sometime next week.


End file.
